


Lace and Ties

by asphaltcowgrrl



Series: Wes in a Dress [7]
Category: Common Law
Genre: Crossdressing Kink, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-02
Updated: 2015-03-02
Packaged: 2018-03-16 02:05:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3470342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asphaltcowgrrl/pseuds/asphaltcowgrrl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Travis buys Wes a present and decides he needs to show it off.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lace and Ties

**Author's Note:**

> So, I've been holding out on you. I finished this back and November and forgot to post. Sorry?

He must’ve been staring at the box because Travis nudged him in the side.  “C’mon, Wes.  Open it.”

Wes lifted his eyes and met his lover’s – no, his _boyfriend’s_ – gaze with his own.  “But why the gift, Trav?”

Marks shrugged.  “No reason, I saw it, I liked it, so I bought it.”

“You’ve been doing that a lot lately.  Too much so, if you ask me.”  He shook his head and focused on the box again.  It was wrapped in a metallic mint grin paper, tied with a pale yellow tulle ribbon.  To be honest, it looked fancier than anything Travis might have found on his own, and that worried him.  “Where did you get it?”

“Just open the damn thing, baby,” he pleaded. 

With one last, lingering look, he gave in to temptation and gently slipped the delicate ribbon off the package.  He earned a majestic eye roll from his partner when he took the time to set it aside, neatly of course, before going back to the box.  Slipping a finger under a neatly folded edge, Wes popped the wrapping open.  He flipped it over to expose the neat seam along the bottom and ripped open the tape holding it together.  A half smirk firmly on his face, he returned the box to its proper orientation and stared at it.

“Well?”

“Well, I don’t know,” he said.  “I’m actually rather frightened.”

“What?”  Travis’ laugh was just this side of hysterical.  “Frightened?”

Wes nodded.  “You have to admit, this is a very nicely wrapped present.”  Travis’ face said that he agreed, so he went on.  “And you also have to admit you have zero patience for wrapping.”  The laugh that followed more than confirmed that statement.  “So you must’ve spent some money somewhere getting this wrapped.”

“Nah, I took it to my foster sister, Cookie.  She works in one of those fancy department stores.  She hooked me up.”

That made him feel a little better, but he was still nervous.  Ever since Travis first stumbled upon him, wearing a flowered sundress months ago, he’d become compelled to randomly buy him all sorts of feminine accoutrements.  Dresses, heels, makeup, underwear.  Whatever was in this box was surely of a similar vein, but what?

Taking a deep breath, he figured there was only one way to find out.

The lid came off easily, rustling the sheets of tissue paper tucked beneath.  Curiosity finally taking the reins, Wes pushed the crinkly paper aside and caught his breath.  A pistachio green jacquard print looked back at him, waiting for him to pick it up and hold it.  He traced a finger down the middle, the feel of metal hooks hiding beneath the floral patterned fabric catching him off guard. 

Wes tilted his head in Travis’ direction.  “You bought me a corset?”

“Yeah,” he chuckled, nerves getting the better of him for the first time in Wes’ memory.  “Well, I was online at Etsy –”

“Etsy?  Really, Marks?”  Wes couldn’t stop the grin crowding his face.

“Like I said,” he huffed.  “I was on Etsy looking for a birthday gift for one of my foster moms.  She really loves handmade kitchen kitsch and they have a ton of it on there.”

“That they do,” Wes agreed, still smiling at the thought of Travis Marks surfing that kind of site. 

“And, well, I stumbled across this.”  He waved a hand in the direction of the box.  It was a hard decision, there were so many to choose from, but I was drawn to this green.”  Travis reached into the box and fingered the ruffle skirting the lower edge of the corset.  “Thought it’d look nice alongside your pale ass skin.”

Wes accepted the backhanded compliment with a grace learned only by dealing with the man beside him on a daily basis.  “Thank you, Marks.  You’re too kind.”

Lifting the corset out of the box, he examined it with a more critical eye, noticing the pastel green and yellow ribbons tied in a bow at the center of the bust, the high quality of the fabric, and the matching pastel ties used to cinch up the backside of the item. 

“It’s supposed to be used as a tummy tamer,” Travis grinned, “but I don’t think you need to worry about that part of it.  Your abs are pretty tight, baby.”

He knew they were, he busted his ass to keep them that way, but it was always a pleasant surprise when Travis noticed things like that.  “Thank you, really Travis.  Even though I know you have an ulterior motive behind buying this, it’s still lovely.”

The delighted expression donning Travis’ face was exhilarating.   Wes would do anything in his power to keep him that happy, that content. 

“You missed something,” he said, bringing Wes back to reality.  “Look in the bottom of the box.”

Wes glanced back into the box and withdrew a scrap of matching material.  Allowing it to dangle from one finger, he eyed Travis skeptically.  “What the hell is this?”

“A matching g-string.  It was included in the package.”

“You are too much,” Wes teased, loving his partner’s thoughtfulness.  “One problem: I have nothing to wear this with.”

“That’s where the g-string comes in,” Travis suggested.

“Have I told you lately how awful you were?”  Wes sat on the couch beside Marks, knees touching. 

“Only just this morning when I was trying to con you out of a quickie before work.”  He shoulder bumped the blond playfully.  “Seriously though, I think it’d look amazing worn with the jeans you have on now.”

Wes looked down at his lower half and shook his head.  “A corset and jeans, Travis?  No way.”

“Totally.  It’s the newest fashion statement, trust me.  You have any idea how many women I saw working – wait, never mind.”

A sharp bark of laughter escaped Wes.  “When you were working vice?  Good lord, you’re dressing me like a hooker.”

“No, no,” he begged unsuccessfully, the laughter overcoming his plea.  “I swear, it’s not that.  But I have seen it.  Those jeans are a nice, washed out blue and they fit your ass perfect.  We could mousse up your hair a bit, get you barefoot… yeah, it’d be hot.”

Wes wasn’t sure if he should trust Travis’ judgment on what was hot or not, but since they weren’t planning on going anywhere for the evening, what did he have to lose?  Nothing except his pride, and that had disappeared seven dates ago.  His fingers tugged at his grey flannel – another gift from Travis, one that was meant to help him become more laid back during his downtime - until the tails had pulled out from the waistband of his favorite jeans.  His eyes met Travis while he unbuttoned.  “Help me put it on?”

“Hell yeah, baby,” Travis agreed, beaming with pride. 

Travis lifted the corset out of the box while Wes discarded his shirt.  More accurately, he folded it neatly and laid it across the arm of his chair, but he wasn’t going to split hairs with himself over this.  To Wes, _that_ was carelessly discarding.  Hanging it back up or putting it with the other dirty laundry would have been preferable, but he doubted Travis was going to give him that much freedom right now. 

“Come here,” he said, voice gentle, alluring. 

Nervous, Wes came to stand before Travis, only to be turned around gently so that he was facing away.  “Travis?”

“Hang on,” he said, arms reaching around and fitting the material around his middle.  After an adjustment or two, he seemed satisfied.  “Okay, hold this in place for me for a sec.”

Unsure of what he was up to, Wes opted to do as he was told and save the sarcasm for later.  When Travis came around to look him over, the satisfied expression said it all.  A tiny tug here and a little straightening there, and he nodded, happy. 

“Is there something you need me to do,” Wes asked, uncomfortable with simply standing, half naked, in the living room of his hotel suite. 

“Just stand there, look pretty, and hold tight to your new outfit, honey.”  Travis gave him a pat on the head and returned to his position behind him. 

More than anything, he wished he could see what was going on behind him right then.  What he could feel, however, was filling him with a myriad of mixed emotions.  Travis’ fingertips settling on his hips, his breath whispering against his bare neck.  It was almost too much and he was so tempted to drop his hands, let the corset fall, and give in to Travis’ every wish.  But something compelled him to stand still, behave, and let Marks work his magic.  Whatever that might be in this situation. 

He felt a slight tug and a bit of compression as Travis pulled on and then cinched the stays tightly, ensuring they wouldn’t come loose.  Methodically, he continued upwards, wrenching and pulling until the green fabric fit snugly against his bare chest.  A tickle of ribbon brushed his shoulder and he prayed that meant Travis was tying the ends off, that this was finished, and he could see that approval etched on his lover’s face one more time.  Instead, he was rewarded with two strong hands encircling his waist, and a pair of lips just behind his ear. 

“Can I turn around?”  Wes was terrified that Travis’ hopes wouldn’t live up to the reality, but he had to know one way or the other, and sooner beat later every day.

“Please,” he begged.

He turned and held his arms out, baring himself to Travis’ scrutiny.  The corset fit flat against his chest, not gaping or otherwise humiliating him with the reminder of what he was missing.  He supposed that was the benefit to having the stays, so that it could be tautened as much – or as little as needed.  “Well?”

“You look amazing,” he breathed.  “Couldn’t be any more perfect if you were buck naked and screaming my name.”

Wes swallowed the embarrassment of that last statement as best as he was able.  “I don’t know how women wore these every day,” he admitted, smoothing a hand along his flat abdomen.  “And I don’t even have breasts to complicate matters.”

“Breasts complicate all matters,” Travis said with an air of authority only a womanizing, serial dater could have. 

“I’ll take your word for it,” Wes laughed.  “Give me a minute to go look at myself?”

The corner of Travis’ mouth tilted up in a sly, sexy sort of smile.  “Absolutely.  But after ninety seconds, I’m coming in after you.  Ready or not, babycakes.”

_Babycakes_.  What the hell kind of nickname was that anyway? Only something Travis could come up with, he was sure.  Opening the door to his bedroom, he made his way to the bathroom, and looked into the mirror, observing with a critical eye all his flaws – real and imagined.  He wished his hips were a little rounder, not feminine exactly, but not nearly as ten-year-old boy as they were either.  Not to mention he’d give his best pair of heels to have just a hint of color in his skin. 

“Well, what you do have is going to have to suffice, Mitchell,” he admonished himself.  Remembering what Travis had mentioned earlier, he pulled open a drawer and rifled through it until he found what he was looking for.  He stared at the hair gel and sighed.  _Here goes nothing_.

Squeezing a dollop of blue goo into the palm of his hand, he smeared it against the other until it was mostly distributed between the two.  Ruffling his fingers through his short, blond locks, he spiked and floofed as best he could, being long out of practice with styling.  Kate at the station had encouraged him to let it grow out a touch – not so much he started looking like a  hippie, but just enough so that the natural waves became more prominent.  He’d dismissed the idea almost immediately, until now.  Looking at the way his hair landed in petite peaks across his head, a bit more height would go a long way in making him look more girlish.  All while not completely destroying his professional appearance during the daytime. 

“So, you took my suggestion, I see,” Travis noticed, slipping his arms around Wes’ midsection.  “I like it.”

“Kate suggested I let it grow out an inch or so, what do you think?”  He turned to face Travis, searching his face for the truth.

“I think you’d rock the look, baby,” he agreed.  “But that cowlick of yours, well…”

He got the point.  It was damn near untamable now, if it grew out any, it could take on a life of its own.  “Noted.”

“But,” Travis said, bringing Wes’ attention away from his hair and back onto his partner, “I also think you look too damn good to keep you locked up inside all night.”

“Oh really,” Wes drawled.  “Never stopped you before.”

“Nope, sure didn’t, but before, we’d never been out in public together like this either.”

Wes froze, his stomach falling into his bare feet.  “What are you talking about?”

“I want to take you out for a drink.”  Possibly in reaction to the look of disbelief Wes knew to be on his face, Travis clarified.  “Not here, of course not.  But I know a place.”

“A place full of drag queens?”  He couldn’t keep the sarcasm out of his voice.

“No, not quite,” Travis chuckled, fingers tracing the lines of the pastel ribbons running along the hem of the corset.  “But one equally understanding of their unique patrons.”

“I know I’m going to regret this, but where do you plan on taking me?”  He sat on the arm of his chair, waiting for whatever insanity had gripped Travis. 

“Loco Lobos Cantina,” he stated.  “It’s not exactly a gay bar but...”

“But it kind of is, too,” Wes finished for him.  He knew of the place, although he’d never been inside.  While not strictly classified as any kind of bar, it did attract a certain kind of clientele.  “Okay, and if I say yes?  How do you plan on getting me out of here without anyone noticing?”

“You can wear my jacket over your uh, _top_.  Problem solved.”  Travis’ eyes drifted towards Wes’ feet, eliciting a wicked grin.  “We can find something to stash your heels in.  Do you have a pair that will match?”

“Yeah, I think I have a pair of lemon colored heels but – wait.  Travis?  What the hell?”  He held up a hand to stall any distracting commentary.  “When did we decide it was okay to parade me around Los Angeles like this?”

Travis rested his rear on the chair opposite Wes.  “I don’t know, we didn’t, not really.  But I think you look amazing and I want to rub in that you’re with me to anyone who looks at you.”

“Hmm, so this is purely for your own ego’s sake?”

“No, you’ll get something out of this, too,” Travis said, words ominous.

“Like what?”  Wes didn’t want to admit to it, but he was a teensy bit afraid of what his partner’s answer might be.

“Mind-blowing, earth-shattering sex for starters.”

  1.   He was game.  “And what else?”  He might as well bargain while he could.



“That’s not enough?”  His faux shock was adorable.  “Okay, okay… how about we go out for a few drinks, pick up some food, and come back here for...?”

“Mind-blowing, earth-shattering sex,” Wes supplied.

“Yes,” Travis agreed, whole heartedly.  “But not right away.  A movie maybe?”

“If you so much as even suggest _Tootsie_ , I’ll murder you in your sleep.”  He gave Travis a pointed look.

“Me?  Never.  I was thinking more along the lines of something we can find on pay-per-view and wait… I don’t mean porn either, Mitchell.”  He glared at Wes.  “Get your mind out of the gutter.”

“You’re the one dating a guy who dresses in drag.  Don’t you dare judge me.”  He studied Travis’ profile for a moment, thinking on how lucky he was, even when the idiot sprung things like this on him.  “Alright, fine.  A couple drinks and nothing more.  I do not want to be out long enough to be found out, you hear me?”  At the accepting nod, he continued.  “And I kind of bought a movie last night, so I know what we’ll watch, if that’s okay.”

“As long as it’s not a chick flick, I’m good,” Travis assured him, standing. 

_Definitely not a chick flick_.  “It’s a deal.”  Wes held out his hand, waiting to be helped up.  Travis complied.  “Let me find a pair of sneakers because there’s no chance I’m getting on your bike barefoot.”

“Wait, we’re taking my bike?  Wes?”  It was too late, Wes had gone in search of footwear.

Disappearing into his room, he found both a pair of running shoes as well as his lemon pumps that would complement his new corset nicely.  Briefly, he thought about adding a necklace and discarded the idea, not wanting to keep Travis waiting too much longer.  He gave himself a quick once-over in the mirror and winced, thinking what a helmet would do to his hair.  “The price we pay for beauty,” he muttered, turning off the light and returning to the living room. 

“Ready?” 

“Ready,” he lied, opening the front door and allowing Travis to exit.  He wasn’t sure he’d ever be ready for something like this. 

 

“Well hello there, cutie,” the voice said. 

Wes looked up into the chocolate brown eyes of an overly large and hairy man.  Travis had only been gone for about four and three-quarters seconds, how did this lunk move so fast?  “Hi.”

“Your man abandon you?”  He traced a line down the length of Wes’ forearm, toying with the fine blond hairs adoring his skin. 

“Nooooo,” he said, looking around in a furtive manner, trying to locate said man.  “He went to get us another round.”

“And he succeeded, baby,” Travis announced from behind the burly man’s shoulder.  “Mind moving, buddy so I can treat my girl to a good time?”

The interloper scowled at Travis until he caught a hint of the badge still resting on his hip.  Eyes wide, he held his hands out in a non-threatening manner.  “Anything you want.  I’m not here to cause trouble.”

“Should’ve thought of that before he sat down beside someone else’s woman,” Travis grumbled.

Wes totally wanted to bust him for being jealous, but it was a sweet victory on his part.  Besides, what girl didn’t want to inflict a tiny bit of jealousy into her man now and then?  “Thank you,” he said, trying not to grin at Travis’ discomfort. 

“You’re welcome,” he grunted.  “That bear wasn’t the only one looking at you though,” he informed the blond.

“He wasn’t?”  This was news to Wes.  He hadn’t noticed anyone else taking an interest.  Giving a stealthy look around the bar, he still didn’t see anyone looking his way.  “No one’s looking now.”

“Of course not, you doof.  I’m back.  When I was at the bar though?  All eyes on you, baby.”  There was more than a little pride in those words and they made Wes’ chest swell.  “Trust me, I was keeping a close eye on you.”

He still wasn’t willing to believe that _all eyes_ were on him, but he’d take the one grizzly that did hit on him.  Something else he’d take was the Neanderthal sitting beside him.  As outdated as Travis’ actions could be at times, that he was so worried about someone else slipping in while he was away was heartening.  Maybe you could teach a hound dog new tricks?  “I appreciate it.  I’m a little out of practice when it comes to fielding advances like that.”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way,” Travis said, lifting his beer bottle to his lips. 

Wes sipped his drink – Travis had brought him something fruity and girly, most likely as a joke – and made a face. It was sweet, but strong and he liked it.  More than he’d admit to Travis even.  He took another long pull on the drink and watched as Travis stared down a rather flouncy sort of guy as he approached their table.  Approximately half way to their table, he caught Travis’ gaze and abruptly made a beeline for the bar. 

“You don’t’ have to be so scary,” he stated, poking Travis in the arm.

“What makes these jackasses think that you’re single?”  He shook his head.  “I’m sitting _right here_ , Wes.  Right.  Here.”

“Maybe he wasn’t coming for me,” he suggested, knowing that it was more likely that Travis was what brought the kid their way. 

Travis looked at him, dumbfounded.  “You just don’t see it, do you?  Amazing.”

Figuring he’d done something stupid to offend Travis, Wes touched his hand gently.  “What don’t I see?”  Because face it, he missed a lot sometimes. 

“That you’re a dreamboat,” Travis teased.  “Every guy in this bar wants you or wants to _be_ you.  And you’re totally oblivious.  I love it.”

“You do?”  He slipped his fingers into Travis hand.  “Why?”

“Because you’re mine.”

It was probably the sweetest thing Travis had ever said to him and somehow, he believed he meant every word of it.  This admission of both commitment and fidelity – two words that normally weren’t anywhere near his partner’s vocabulary – left him at a loss for words.  Stalling for time, he brought the glass to his lips again, just in time to see yet another man approach their quiet booth.  Travis’ eyes narrowed, his cop face firmly affixed and ready to launch. 

“Travis,” he said, low enough for only the two of them to hear.  “Behave yourself.”

“He’s come by here before,” Travis growled.  “I even told him to fuck the hell off when he approached me,” he gave Wes a look that spoke volumes, “wanting to know when his _turn_ with you would be.”

If he’d thought himself speechless before, he was even more so now.  “Call me naïve, but he thinks I’m a hooker?  I told you –”

“No,” Travis grinned, tearing his gaze off the prowling prick.  “He was under the impression that I like to share.”

“Boy, was he ever mistaken.”  Wes sipped his drink, trying not to laugh.  Travis shared _nothing_ but his opinion.  Not his food, not his home, and especially not his lover. 

“You got that right,” he agreed, standing as the usurper finally stopped hovering ad approached the table.  “Can I help you?”

His eyes slid right past Travis and landed on Wes.  They were a muddy, unfriendly brown and they were the kind of eyes you found on a homicidal maniac.  “I doubt you could do anything for me, but this sweet little thing sure could.”

“I don’t think that –” Wes began. 

“She has any desire to have anything to do with you,” Travis finished for him.

Wes pulled his eyes off the jerk in front of him and frowned at Travis.  Under normal circumstances, this would be exactly the kind of guy he’d be attracted to – minus the crazy eyes, that is.  He was tall and broad, but not bulky or hairy.  Sandy blond hair and what could possibly be a charming smile when he wanted it to be rounded out what would generally be a nice package.  But those eyes, they were beginning to creep Wes out.

“Honey, I can take care of myself,” he reminded Travis, not really wanting to deter him from his role as protector, but unable to stop himself either. 

“I know you can, baby,” he said, touching Wes’ face in a show of intimacy, “but when I’m around, you don’t have to.”  Turning back to their uninvited guest, Travis got serious again.  “You can see she’s not interested, so why don’t you get a hint and go the hell away?”

“If she can take care of herself,” he said, leering, “then I think she can answer for herself, too.”  He smiled at Wes, charming becoming creepy in four point six seconds.  “Whaddaya say, sweet thing?”

Wes ran his tongue along his bottom lip, wincing when he realized he was still wearing lipstick.  He flicked his eyes to Travis, but Marks didn’t notice.  He was completely tuned into their visitor’s next move.  “What do I say,” he repeated, correcting the behemoth’s grammar as well as stalling for time.  “Well, to be honest, I think you have the eyes of a serial killer.”

His angry cry of ‘what’ was nearly drowned out by Travis’ maniacal laughter.  “Why the hell would you say something like that,” he spluttered.  “And how the hell would you know anyway?”

Travis took this as his cue to both school and shut the prick up.  Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his gold shield and slapped it on the table between him and the man he was entirely too close to beating down.  “LAPD, asshole.  Homicide.”

Wes grinned inwardly at the fact he had left off the ‘robbery’ portion of their designation.  Intentionally, if he knew his boyfriend at all.  “Here, too,” he added.  “I just don’t have room in my purse for my badge.”

“Baby, I told you we could get you a bigger one,” Travis teased. 

“Yeah, but this one’s so much easier to carry on your bike,” he said.

“Point.”  Travis glared at the intruder one last time.  “You had enough or do I need to drive my position home a bit more?”

He gave Wes one last, rueful look.  “You’re both fucking cops?  Just my luck.”  He shook his head.  “No thank you, you can keep her.  Had my fill of cops in my life.”

“Detectives,” Travis called after his retreating back.  “If you’re going to insult us, get it right.”

“Travis,” Wes laughed, “let it go.  He’s gone.”

“About damn time,” he grunted.  “You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.”  The guy had unnerved him, but he’d never felt like his safety was in question.  Not with Travis beside him anyway.  “You want to get out of here?” 

The look Travis gave him was eloquent.  It was a good damn thing they’d brought the motorcycle tonight or Wes had a feeling he’d be stripped and screwed in the parking lot.  As embarrassing as the thought was, it had more than a little appeal to it.  Forcing down the blush he felt rising in his cheeks, he inclined his head towards the door. 

Travis stood, stuffing his badge back into his pocket.  “Never had that damn thing come in so handy in all my years as a cop.”

“You are impossible,” Wes said, taking his helmet from Travis’ hand.  Once, he had rolled his eyes at guys who rode motorcycles but now, since Travis had started taking him for afternoon rides, he finally understood the attraction.  And being on the back of a bike, with his arms around Travis’ middle, well, that only made it more enjoyable.  He knew he was in trouble when Marks bought him his own helmet. 

“But you looooove me,” he teased, slipping on his own helmet and securing it. 

“Oh, that I do,” Wes agreed, reluctant to ruin his hair a second time.  With a sigh, he settled it onto his head, wondering if he could get it to regain its attitude once they returned home.  Where that would be tonight, he was unsure, but he had a feeling it’d be Travis’ place simply because it was closer.  The thought of an early morning bike ride back the hotel wasn’t a pleasant one and he gave himself another mental reminder to start looking for a place that really was his own.  “Now can we get the hell out of here?”

The rumbling of the bike’s engine was his answer, the only one he needed.  Sliding his arms around Travis’ hips, he gave a slight squeeze – his little way of letting Marks know he could take off without fear of losing his lover off the back end.  Giving a nod of acknowledgement, Travis pulled out of the parking lot and onto the street.

 

Wes lay on his back, staring at the roof of Travis’ trailer.  He’d been awake for nearly an hour now, having been startled out of sleep by his sweetheart’s snoring.  Once he discovered the source of the noise, he smiled and ran his fingers through Marks’ mussed hair.  It was probably his most annoying habit, but at times like this, it was endearing as well.  Travis snuggled into the crook of Wes’ arm, seeking warmth and comfort and finding both in the familiarity of the body beside him.  It went without saying that it brought Wes no end of comfort having his boyfriend so near in the dark of the night.

The internal memo he’d written to himself earlier nagged at his brain, keeping him from returning to dreamland with his partner.  Having mentioned on several occasions that he should really start looking for an apartment or _something_ , Travis had eventually stopped dropping hints when Wes failed to respond.  It caused Wes no end of guilt, too, because he wasn’t sure if Travis was hinting so that he could come along or simply because he wanted his baby to be happy.  And Wes, being the stubborn ass that he was, refused to ask for clarification.

Which is probably why he was staring at the ceiling at quarter to three in the morning, while Travis snored happily beside him.

Checking first to make sure Travis was face down and slumbering, Wes reached for his phone and started a new search.  Filtering his results to match what he needed, he searched again and began browsing.  The list was endless, and a phone wasn’t the best way to do this, but it was a start.  Finding a few promising leads, he emailed the results page to himself.  Satisfied, he shut off his cellphone and told himself he’d do a thorough vetting in the morning.  When he had more time… and was alone.

Where the Marks effect couldn’t influence his decision. 

Or give him cold feet.  Again. 

Planting a chaste kiss on Travis’ forehead, Wes relaxed into the well-used pillow and promptly fell asleep. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Oh... and I really did find Travis' [gift](https://www.etsy.com/listing/185839079/new-sexy-green-corset-top-tummy-cincher?ref=sr_gallery_9&ga_search_query=corset&ga_page=2&ga_search_type=handmade&ga_view_type=gallery) on Etsy.


End file.
